Delilah made a poor job of hiding the damage. The large fluffy winter beanie she had stuffed onto her head did nothing to hide the jagged cut to the strands of her auburn hair. Betsy winced. Not her hair, she thought in dismay.

Stepping past the doorway, Betsy approached the young girl with slow steps. Delilah looked ready to bolt, her body trembling with nervous anticipation. A black smear crept from beneath the ridiculously large sunglasses covering half of her face. She tucked her hands into her pockets in a flash of sparkling red varnish. Betsy shook her head. Her make up bag had been raided with disastrous results. And where had she even borrowed the scissors from?

Betsy shook her head and pressed her lips together. She could have been angry. Instead, all Betsy wanted to do was laugh at the absurdity of it all. But, when she spotted the pitiful wobble to Delilah's bottom lip, she knew she was a goner.

"What's the hold up? Breakfast is - what?" Nick paused in the doorway to Delilah's bedroom, his eyes blinking owlishly at his daughter's altered appearance. His eyes drifted from the winter beanie to the sunglasses and sundress peeking from beneath the over-sized jumper. "I'm confused. Is it winter or summer?"

Delilah gave a meek whimper, her head bowing so that the sunglasses dropped off of her face and onto the floor.

Shaking her head, Betsy stretched up a hand and patted Nick's t-shirt clad torso. "Head back downstairs, your in-laws won't survive tornado Tommy without you there." When he glanced down at her, his brows lifting in askance, she just smiled. Their eyes met and within that one glance, there was an entire conversation. "Delilah and I will be having a girls' day. Sorry, no boys allowed."

Nick huffed as he replied, "Fine, we'll have to make do without you."

Yet, in contradiction to his words, his hands were gentle as they landed on her shoulders and gave a light squeeze. His gaze warm as he looked between the two of them. There was also relief. The thought of Nick trying to navigate a hair emergency with a pre-teen was both comical and terrifying. A part of her was almost tempted to make him join them.

"You'll survive." Betsy replied cheekily after a brief pause, lifting on to her tiptoes and pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "We'll bring you back a surprise, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan." Nick replied, before backing from the room. "Call me if you need anything?"

"We will."

"Great." He spun on his heel only to pause in the threshold. "Oh, and Betsy? Thank you."

Once he was gone, Betsy closed the door behind him and then turned to face the morose girl once more.

"Okay, let's see the damage." She said softly, coming to kneel before her. She winced as her knee landed upon a discarded make up brush.

Reluctantly, Delilah tugged the hat from her head, the jagged curls tumbling down. Where before her hair had been long, reaching halfway down her back, the longest piece now reached her shoulder. The shortest kissed her chin. A wonky fringe fell into her eyes.

Reaching out, Betsy pushed several strands from her face to try and create some order but it just fell back into disarray. "I think we're going to have to see the professionals for this. I am many things but I am definitely not a hairdresser."

"I'm sorry. I tried to follow the video but it didn't work," Delilah cried, pulling off the sunglasses to rub at her eyes. The mascara smeared ever further across.

"It's okay. We can sort this out." Betsy replied calmly, her eyes spotting several plaits sitting on her bedside table. "And even better, we're going to do something with the hair you cut off. If it's okay with you, we can post it off so that it can be turned into a wig for someone who doesn't have hair. How does that sound?"

Tears momentarily forgotten, Delilah stared up at her with wide eyes. "You can do that?"

"Well, I can't make wigs." She teased, earning a reluctant chuckle from the girl. "But, yes, we'll pop it into an envelope and I'll get it sent to the right people. Okay?"

Only when she had received a nod and a small smile from Delilah did Betsy move. She clambered awkwardly to her feet. Her knees throbbing in protest. Then, smoothing a hand over Delilah's hair, Betsy hesitated for only a second before pulling her into a tight hug. A mama bear hug, as her sister had always called them. Delilah's shorter arms came to rest around her her waist, hugging her back just as firmly. Within moments Betsy felt dampness seep through her t-shirt. Delilah's shoulders shuddered as she cried softly into Betsy's stomach. Her heart ached in response. Murmuring softly under her breath, Betsy just held her tightly and offered her comfort the only way she knew how.

Betsy quickly gathered some supplies from the adjoining bathroom before guiding the distraught girl to sit on the end of the bed. Crouching before her, Betsy used the warm damp cloth to tackle the make up. With each swipe, clean skin emerged. Delilah gave a pitiful sniff as she rubbed at her red puffy eyes.

"Do you want to tell me why you cut your hair, sweetheart?"

Sniffling, Delilah's shoulders drooped, an uneven curl tumbling into her vision. Betsy had never seen her like this. Her fingers curled around the cloth to stop her from smothering the girl with more hugs. She wanted to wipe away any of the hurt she was feeling. No, not wanted. It was a need.

Finally, Delilah mumbled, "I wanted to play football with the boys as they get to do football club but they kept pulling my hair. They said girls can't play football."

Betsy blinked. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't that. Delilah had always been more prone to dabbling with creative pursuits than sport. "I didn't know you liked football."

A smile came over Delilah's face, her head moving frantically up and down, "We had football week at school and Mrs Hayes said even girls can become professional footballers."

"That's true." Betsy nodded, reaching out and carding her fingers through the soft auburn curls. Her face remained serene. Internally, she was planning hell on the boys' parents. That Delilah had felt cutting her hair was the only option told her this was far from an isolated incident. She would be damned before she let the matter slide. 

"We'll speak to the school next week about football club, okay? But can you promise me one thing - next time you want to cut your hair, come to me first? Okay?"

"Okay?" Delilah replied, her lips pulling up into a genuine smile that was so like her fathers it sent a pang through her chest. She loved this little family she had adopted as her own. She may not share blood with any of the children but it did noting to lessen how much she cared for them. "Is Daddy mad with with?"

Wiping away the last remains of the tears, Betsy shook her head. "No, he's just worried about you." Tapping Delilah on the nose, Betsy gently set the cloth on the side table. "Now, go and get your shoes. We're going to spend the day together, okay? Just you and me. How does that sound?"

"Okay," Delilah replied softly before leaning forwards and wrapping her arms around Betsy's neck, her face burying into the older woman's blonde curls. "I love you, Betsy."

A surge of emotion curled through Betsy at her words. Her eyes welled and within moment she was blinking back tears. Betsy couldn't remember the last time she had felt this happy. There had been so much pain and loss over the past few years. From losing her son to the attack by the past housekeeper, at times it felt insurmountable. Yet these were the moments she treasured. Holding her close, Betsy sniffled, "I love you too, sweetheart."

Betsy had never been more grateful to her sister. If she hadn't tricked her into taking the job with Nick in the first place, she never would have met Nick and the children. She wouldn't have fallen in love with them. She wouldn't have found a family. Yet, like it was fated, she had somehow become part of the Davenport family and she couldn't imagine her life without them.

**

It was a few hours later that the pair exited from the salon. Delilah's hair had been cut short, her auburn curls now kissing her chin. The fringe had been tidied, sitting neatly just above her brow. The most startling transformation was the wide smile on the young girl's face as they stepped back out on to the street. Pure joy. It was only way she could describe it.

"Do you think Daddy will let me get boots?" Delilah asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she walked backwards in front of her.

"If you're serious about this then I don't see why not." Betsy replied, reaching out to tuck an errant curl behind Delilah's ear. "How about we stop by the bakery on the way home? We promised your daddy a surprise."

"Can we get cupcakes?"

"Of course -."

A tall imposing man with a stern expression and a scar bisecting his left eye brow peeled away from his post against the side of the building. Betsy's heart skipped a beat for a brief moment. And then she blew out a breath as her eyes dropped to the small discreet logo embroidered onto cuffs of his jacket.

"Shall I bring the car around, Ms Jones?"

"That sounds good. We'll meet you just outside of the bakery?"

"I'll walk you to the door."

"That's really not necessary."

"Ma'am, I am just doing my job."

Letting out a frustrated sign, Betsy nodded her head. The small hand which had wrapped around hers was a stark reminder of why his presence was very much needed. It wasn't just about her. Betsy may have been the girlfriend of a billionaire but Delilah was his daughter. His heir.

In the two hundred feet between the door of the salon and the entrance of the bakery, Betsy did not relax. At all. There was something about having a hulking presence beside her which set her on edge. He was there to protect her. She knew that. Instead, he just reminded her of the danger which was now a constant companion in her life.

"Wait inside until I return, okay?" He ordered sternly, waiting only for Betsy's nod of assent before he pushed open the door to the bakery so they could enter.

He left them as soon as they were safely within the confines of the bakery, his tall imposing form striding down the street with purpose. Delilah watched him go before giving a sad shake of her head.

"I think he needs a cupcake too." She murmured, "He's very grumpy today. Cake will make it better."

Lips twitching up into a smile, Betsy said,"I'm sure he would like that very much."

The queue moved quickly and before they know it they were stepping back out onto the street. The afternoon sun was bright, forcing her to squint and turn her eyes away from the sun as she awkwardly sidled out of the shop, the cake box precariously on one hand while the other held the door open for Delilah. The door swung shut behind her with a jingle.

Betsy felt Delilah squeak at her side a second before her fingers grasped onto the bottom of Betsy's t-shirt.

A moment later a bright flash of light consumed Betsy's vision, swiftly followed by another and another. Betsy winced. Arms reaching out blindly, Betsy tugged Delilah into her side hiding her face from their camera lenses. Shit. Why hadn't she brought the full security team? It had seemed so stupid. They were just going for a hair cut and cakes. They shouldn't have needed a full detail. Their trip was unplanned after all.

"Betsy, over here."

"Can you look this way?"

Flash. Flash. Flash.

Betsy could only see white spots dancing across her vision. The cake box dropped from her grasp and spilled across the floor. She felt one of the cupcakes bounce off of her shoe but she dared not risk a glance down. Delilah whimpered. White hot lava poured through Betsy's veins in response. She had never felt fury like this. This was not bloody okay. It was far from okay. Delilah was a child. She was a minor. She shouldn't have to deal with this kind of scrutiny just because of who her dad is.

Lifting her head, Betsy was relieved to see only two paparazzi before her but it was more than enough.Over and over they call her name. Holding Delilah close, Betsy carefully stepped over the discarded box of cakes and forced her way forwards. Despite the lenses thrust into her face, the vultures reluctantly parted before her. The clicking and the flashes never ceased. It was a wonder she was wasn't blinded.

Still, she kept putting one foot in front of the other. She kept Delilah's face hidden from view determined to keep her sheltered as much as possible from this invasion.

There was a screeching of tires on tarmac.

Betsy's heart skipped uncomfortably. Please not more of them.

"Ms Jones!" A voice called like a welcome beacon in the storm. And then strong arms were parting the crowds.

Betsy had never been more grateful for Nick's insistence on security than she was watching this tall,beefy man pushing the vultures out of the way. And if a few cameras were slapped onto the hard unforgiving ground in the process, who was she to argue? Betsy guided Delilah into the back seat of the car first, Betsy's hand instinctively resting on top her head to prevent her from knocking her head on the door frame.

Only when the door was closed behind her and the car was pulling away from the cur did the tightness in her chest ease. A small sniffle escaped Delilah's lips. Pulling the small girl into her hold, Betsy closed her eyes and sighed. Nick's wealth and global businesses meant he was always be in the limelight. As his family, that light would fall on them too. Maybe it was time to fast forward their plans to take control of their media presence - after all, it could be the only way to keep their family safe.

Still, despite knowing the vultures would always be there, Betsy smoothed her hands through Delilah's hair soothingly before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "It's okay, sweetheart. I've got you. You're safe now."